


Celebrate Your Joy

by engmaresh



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Angst, Backstory, Drama, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Female Relationships, Humor, Mild Sexual Content, Redemption, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 11:20:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17661587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/engmaresh/pseuds/engmaresh
Summary: The new year brings with it the hope for change, renewal, redemption. Over many years, Kuvira seeks all three.





	Celebrate Your Joy

**Author's Note:**

> Celebrate your joy,  
> you have suffered to earn this,  
> ached to deserve it.  
> —[Daily Haiku on Love by Tyler Knott Gregson](http://tylerknott.com/post/181985982802/celebrate-your-joy-you-have-suffered-to-earn)

**1**

“Kuvira, what have you done to yourself?” Kuvira flushed as all eyes in the tiny room turned to look at her. Everyone was already seated, ready to begin new year’s dinner. “Look at you! Have you been playing in the dirt?” her mother exclaimed, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her behind the curtain that separated the living space from the sleeping space. She began vigorous brushing down her daughter.

“Mom!” Kuvira squirmed, trying to wriggle free. Her mother’s brushing wasn’t gentle as she tried to beat the dirt off her pants. “Look at what I can do!”

“Dirty your clothes?” her mother scolded. “This is your only good pair, you know? You will go to school in these dirty clothes and everyone will laugh at you.”

Any other time the prospect becoming the laughing stock of her class would have terrified Kuvira. It was bad enough that they laughed her for being poor, for being stupid, for being the fourth child in a family of six and a girl at that, unlucky and useless. But all this was going to change. She could feel it.

“Mom, look!” she insisted, and opened her palm. In it sat a ball of dirt, brown and polished, compressed to an almost rock-like hardness.

A look of disgust crossed her mother’s face. “What is that? Why are you bringing home rubbish?”

“I can bend, look!” And as she willed it, the ball of dirt rose up in the air, hovering inches above her palm. She twirled her fingers and it split into two.

As shock and awe spread across her mother’s face, Kuvira felt a new emotion bloom warm in her chest. Pride, and a sense of vindication. None of her brothers could do this. Who was the unlucky one now?

“By the spirits!” The curtain was ripped open and she looked up to see her older brother’s grinning face. “Kuvira’s bending!”

Suddenly the entire sleeping space was crowded as everyone rushed from one side of the room to the other, tearing down the curtain in the process. Her mother wasn’t even angry about it, tears of joy streaming from her eyes as she thanked the spirits for giving her an earthbending child.

Later, once everyone was seated again around the table, her father passed her the best pieces of fish. “When school starts, I’ll speak to your teacher and tell them to put you in bending classes.”

Kuvira flushed, this time with pride. Under the table, where no one was looking, she raised little mountains with her feet.

 

**2**

“Don’t you look adorable,” said Mrs Liu as she tucked the tail of Kuvira’s braid into the back of the bun. The moment she had her back turned, Kuvira grimaced. She hated it, all this primping and preening. The new clothes were stiff with starch, and Mrs Liu had braided her hair back so tight that her scalp ached.

When the last of the kids had been made presentable, they were trooped out into the parlour and sat down in rows. A small stage had been erected along one wall, and judging from the jittery legs and restless shifting of the other children, Kuvira wasn’t the only one nervous about the performance.

“Oh, she’s here!” Mrs Liu suddenly exclaimed, almost tripping over her own dress as she hurried to the door, her hands flapping like agitated birds. Her greeting to the Metal Clan matriarch was drowned out by the scrape of chairs as twenty children rose to their feet.

“Oh my,” said Suyin Beifong, looking taken aback as they all burst into song the moment she stepped through the threshold. “How lovely.” She didn’t look at all like she thought it was lovely, and Kuvira couldn’t help but feel a little smug about that. Maybe after this, they could have Ms Mi as their overseer. Ms Mi was so much nicer, and had argued against the whole new year's performance when Mrs Liu had started organising it. The matriarch wasn’t one to be impressed by showy displays, and Mrs Liu was stupid not to realise it. Kuvira had been in Zaofu for just a few months and she already knew that.

This seemed to finally dawn on Mrs Liu because after the song was over, she immediately steered the matriarch over to the table, gesturing for the children to follow. “Why don’t we toss some _yee sang_ ,” she suggested, distributing chopsticks as everyone crowded around. “After all, don’t we all want prosperity for Zaofu?”

All around her, small faces nodded with varying degrees of solemnity. Kuvira was bored, and tried not to let it show. If the performance was cancelled, it meant getting out earlier, and maybe that would leave her enough time to practice metalbending by the domes.

The table was too small for over twenty people, and Kuvira suddenly found herself squashed up against someone much taller. She looked up and flushed furiously as she found her gaze caught by the matriarch. “You all right?” asked the woman, and Kuvira could only nod dumbly. She didn’t dare to look at the warm hand that closed gently over her shoulder. When the time came to toss the prosperity salad, she reached out jerkily with her chopsticks, robotically reciting wishes for prosperity and health and good fortune.

Above her, the matriarch was laughing, encouraging the children to throw the salad higher. The mood around the table began to change, the kids joining in with gusto, and even Mrs Liu lost her pinched look. But Kuvira found it hard to pay attention to anything but the hand on her shoulder.

After the salad had been scraped off the table and distributed on plates, the matriarch went around distributing red packets. As Kuvira accepted hers with both hands, she could sense the outlines of the coins within the small envelope. Twenty ban. She’d never held so much money before in her life. “Thank you, ma’am,” she managed to stutter out.

“Oh no,” said the matriarch. “Please, call me Suyin.”

“Thank you, Suyin,” Kuvira mumbled, unable to pull her gaze up from the floor. She turned to flee, but once again that warm hand closed about her shoulder, fixing her to the spot.

“Come, sit with me,” said Suyin, leading her to some chairs by the door. Kuvira followed, feeling numb. This was it, wasn’t it? Mrs Liu had complained about her, and they were going to throw her out. She wasn’t good enough for Zaofu, and they were going to send her back to that horrible orphanage in Ba Sing Se.

“What’s wrong?” asked Suyin, and Kuvira realised too late that she was shaking. She clenched her hands into fists, but it didn’t stop.

“You’re not—” she tried to say, and was horrified when hot tears spilled out along with the words. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, wishing she could sink into the earth. She could do it. She could do it and they’d never have to bother with her again.

But instead of cold, damp darkness, she was pulled into warm, soft embrace. “Oh child,” Suyin said softly, stroking her hand through Kuvira’s hair. Somehow her bun had come undone. Unable to hold it back anymore, she burst into tears. And instead of scolding her and telling her suck it up, Suyin just held her tighter.

“You’re not going to throw me out?” Kuvira asked, when she'd finally managed to stop crying. She dabbed furiously at her reddened eyes with a tissue, trying not to look at the stains of tears and snot she’d left on the matriarch’s robes.

But Suyin didn’t seem to care about that at all. “Of course not!” she said, rubbing warm circles into Kuvira’s back. “You’ve only just gotten here. We want you to stay. All of you,” she added, though Mrs Liu had ushered all the other kids out to the back the moment Kuvira’d broken down.

“Besides, your teachers tell me you have an aptitude for metalbending.”

“I do!” said Kuvira hurriedly. She bent the metal necklace away from her neck, and with several twists of her hand, formed the thin metal strips into a lotus. Just like Zaofu’s domes. Suyin took it from her, looking impressed.

“This is very good,” she said, inspecting the petals.

“I practiced a lot,” Kuvira admitted, staring down at her lap.

“I think you might be a little too advanced for your class.” Suyin stood up, brushing off her robes. “I have to leave soon, but I’ll be talking to your teachers about being transferred to a higher class. My son, Huan, is about your age. Maybe you’d like to train with him?”

In her chest, Kuvira’s heart was pounding fit to burst. “Yes!” she almost yelled, then caught herself. “Yes, please. I would love that.”

“Perfect,” said Suyin, patting her shoulder. “I’ll see you soon.”

She walked out, probably to take leave from Mrs Liu, hopefully to fire her. But Kuvira couldn’t bring herself to care either way. All that mattered was that she was staying, and that Suyin Beifong, matriarch of the Metal Clan and leader of Zaofu, had noticed her, _wanted_ her. Right then, she felt like she could have moved mountains.

 

**3**

“I don’t think I’ll be staying much longer,” Kuvira said in undertone as the rest of their colleagues crowded around the table.

“So you _are_ leaving?” Pui Yee whispered back.

“Suyin refuses to do anything about it. You’ve read the news. Ba Sing Se is in shambles. People are dying!”

“I don’t know,” said Pui Yee. She looked uncertain. “Do you really think we’ll make any difference there if we go?”

“Better than doing nothing,” Kuvira hissed, and rose to her feet. Most of the room had already grabbed their food and was seated, and they were beginning to draw attention.

“What about Suyin’s son?” Pui Yee asked, as they helped themselves to the food on the trestle tables.

“Baatar?”

“Oh,” said Pui Yee, and her expression turned sly. “Baatar, is it?”

Kuvira scowled at her. “What do you mean by that?”

“I’m just saying, last week it was ‘Suyin’s son’ and ‘that idiot’ and ‘spoilt brat’. And now you’re like ‘Baatar’.” She waggled her eyebrows over the steamed fish. “What’s changed?”

“Nothing’s changed,” Kuvira snapped, delivering a vicious chop with the serving spoon to the fish’s head. “We’ve just been making plans. He’s already convinced Varrick to join, and if we could get some investors too…”

“Suyin’s going to murder you,” Pui Yee murmured. “First you take her guards, then you take her people, now her son.”

The words hurt. Kuvira blinked rapidly against the stinging in her eyes. It had to be all that ginger, rising in the steam from the gravy. “I’m not trying to take anything away from her! I’m trying to help our country!”

Pui Yee’s eyes went wide, and Kuvira groaned quietly to herself as she realised she’d shouted out the words. At least everyone here was a supporter of her plans. She’d hate to find herself dragged to Suyin before the day was out. What a way to begin the new year.

“Hey boss, we know you care,” someone piped up.

“Yeah, Kuv! You know we’re with you, all the way!”

“It’s only right for us to help the rest of the Earth Kingdom!”

“For Captain Kuvira! For the Earth Kingdom!”

She turned to the room, watching her fellow guards raise their chopsticks and pound the tables in support. Warmth spread through her and she wiped at her eyes with her sleeve.

“You’re a bunch of idiots.”

“Yes,” said Pui Yee, reaching out. “But you’re our idiot captain. Now please, let go of the spoon, before you mutilate all our abundance out of that fish. We’re going to need it.”

 

**4**

“You know what I just realised?”

“What?” asked Kuvira, “Do enlighten me at this crucial moment. It’s not like we’re currently under fire.”

“It’s your year. Your third cycle’s arrived, monkey. And you’re such a grump,” Baatar said. He was covered in dust and small bits of rubble, dragging a heavy box.

“I’m a grump because I’m the only one holding these bandits at bay at the moment. What are _you_ doing?”

“Saving your _char siu_.”

In a crouch, he moved to her side, cradling an armful of grey, orange-shaped objects.

“What do these do?” she asked him.

“Lots of noise and light, and some very bad smells. To go with the festivities, after all.”

She grinned at him. “You’re evil.”

Baatar pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, and smirked. “I know. Now close your eyes.” Then he lobbed one of the grenades over the wall.

“Happy New Year, you bastards!”

 

**5**

Kuvira rifled through a stack of papers, then looked at the contract she had to sign, and then at a whole other stack of reports that still needed reading. She barely managed not to groan. “What do we have planned for this afternoon?”

“Um... _yee sang_ with the governor?” said Bolin, reading off his list. “I’m not entirely sure what that means. Raw fish? We’re eating raw fish?"

“It’s a prosperity salad,” Baatar snapped, snatching the clipboard away from him. “It’s symbolic.”

“Ohhh. Like in fish for prosperity, yeah.” Bolin clicked his tongue, pointing his fingers at them. “I geddit. This a new thing? We don’t do that back in Republic City.”

“It’s a Zaofu tradition,” Kuvira explained. “But we find that everyone enjoys participating. After all, we did set out to bring Zaofu’s system to the rest of the Earth Empire. What better way to seal this deal than with the Empire’s promise for abundance?”

“That sounds really great,” said Bolin, nodding enthusiastically. “Should I let anyone know? Who’s joining? Does the mess know?”

“The mess has already been informed on how to prepare the salad,” Baatar said. He handed Bolin back the clipboard and crossed his arms. “And it’ll just be the governor and top-ranking officials. The rest of the troops will get their own later.”

“Do I…?”

“You’ll be joining us,” Kuvira told him. “You did good work in helping us convince the governor to join the Empire.”

“Hey, I just told him what a great job _you’re_ doing,” Bolin said, though he looked delighted at the praise. “I guess I’ll better let Varrick know too, yeah?”

Baatar groaned the moment he was out the door. “Varrick?”

“He _is_ my Chief Scientist.” She signed the last of the papers and clipped them together.

“He’s going to ruin the whole thing by claiming he’s invented a better type of _yee sang_ or some kind of special self-tossing platter.”

Kuvira snorted. " _That_ I’d like to see.”

“No, you don’t. It’ll be terrible.”

That made her laugh in earnest. “You’re particularly annoyed at him today. What has he done now?”

Baatar walked over, leaning against her desk. She shifted her papers to make a little more space from him. “You mean aside from rearranging our lab and then take up my entire morning by making me help him install generators?”

“You could have just ignored his requests.”

“Sure,” Baatar huffed. “Have him blow up another carriage.”

“The Empire thanks you for saving us the money.” She rose briefly to press a kiss to his cheek. “I thank you for saving me the paperwork.”

He rubbed his neck, looking a little surprised and abashed. “You’re in a good a mood today. Is it the new year?”

“The new year!” Kuvira snapped her fingers. “Time flies, doesn’t it. Remember last year’s?”

Baatar grimaced. “When we were hunkered down in that abandoned village? Besieged by bandits on all sides?”

“We made it out in the end.”

“Barely.”

“And that was only thanks to you. The barely making it out bit.” Kuvira stood up, poking him in the chest. “Only you would blow up our only shelter with us still in it.”

Rolling his eyes, Baatar pulled off his glasses and started polishing them on his sleeve. “I’d told you to leave. Several times. It was my dying wish and all that.”

Kuvira couldn’t help but shiver at the memory. Her hands unconsciously moved to his side, where he’d been impaled through and through by a piece of rebar. “It’s a good thing I didn’t listen to you.”

His hand closed over hers, while his other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close. “I’m glad too.”

They stood like that for a moment, swaying. Suddenly Kuvira straightened, her eyes narrowing.

“What—”

“There’s a ring in your pocket.”

Baatar chewed his lip for a moment, looking down at her. “I don’t suppose I can get away with saying it’s a gasket, can I?”

Kuvira patted him gently on the cheek. “Sorry, love, but no. Did I spoil your surprise? Is that why you wanted your morning free?”

Throwing his hands up in the air, Baatar stalked over to the couch and threw himself down upon it. “Why did I ever think I could surprise you with this?”

“Trying to estimate my measurement from my gloves last week already gave it away.”

He groaned, covering his face with his hands. “I knew you didn’t buy my excuse that I was getting you another pair.”

“Now don’t sulk. It’s unbecoming for my fiancé.” She sat down next to him and threw her legs over his lap. Reaching around, she pulled the box from his pocket. For a moment, she considered opening it, then she passed it back to him.

Baatar almost dropped it, fumbling for the box before it fell into her lap. Red in the face, he looked flustered in a way she hadn’t seen him in a long time. “So that’s a yes?”

Kuvira held out her bare hand and tilted her head up towards his so that she could kiss him properly. “That’s a yes.”

 

**6**

The _clomp clomp_ of heavy boots ended at her cell door and Kuvira sat up on her cot. She wasn’t scheduled for exercise or a shower, and Korra was away. Tensing, she prepared herself for a confrontation. Defeated didn’t mean docile, and while she’d spent her past few months in prison relatively unmolested, she wasn’t about to let her guard down.

No attack came. Instead her guard, a tall heavyset woman named Fong, loomed at the doorway. “You have a visitor,” she grumbled. Fong always spoke in a grumble. “Stand against the wall with your hands above your head.”

So not Korra, Kuvira decided, as she moved to obey the order. Not Lin either. Neither of them ever bordered restraining her. From the corner of her eye, she saw someone else enter the cell, then felt short sharp jabs in the pressure points of her arms and legs as she was chi-blocked. Her limbs tingled, and the little sense she had of the ground through the wooden cell floor vanished. To add insult to injury, she then had her arms dragged down and cuffed behind her back with platinum shackles.

In this manner she found herself marched through several corridors, hauled into a lift, and then down several more corridors. At some point, the floor turned from polished tiles to wood under her feet.

“Wow, all this, just for me?” she remarked, only to get light warning tap to her ribs with a baton. It didn’t hurt, but it was enough to shut her up. For someone paid to to keep her in check, Fong wasn’t all too bad. She did her job and did it well, and while she wasn’t the friendliest, she’d never wielded her baton without good cause. Kuvira could respect that.

She was led into a room that, like her cell, had been entirely constructed out of wood. In the center of it was a heavy table, with chairs on both ends, all built into the floor. They uncuffed her hands from behind her back, then refastened them to the table. Once she was secured, the door opened again behind her.

Kuvira stiffened. She recognized that soft thread, the faint tinkle of ornamental metal plates. “Suyin.”

Behind her, Suyin sighed deeply. “Can I talk to her alone?”

“You have thirty minutes,” grumbled Fong. “And we’ll be watching and listening the whole time.”

“Thank you.” Footsteps, then the door closed heavily behind her. The slam of a heavy bolt of wood falling into place rang through the room. She heard Suyin walk around the table, but Kuvira kept her eyes turned downwards, fixing her gaze upon a dark knot on the table’s surface.

“You look well.”

Kuvira huffed, and bit the inside of her cheek.

“You know, Lin told me you’d been injured after your fight with the Avatar. I never bothered to check up on that. You seem to have recovered.”

“Disappointed?” Kuvira bit out before she could help herself. "It's been over three years. Sorry I haven't dropped dead yet."

Suyin's lips thinned. “Relieved," relieved she said, her voice tight.

“Right.”

“I know you don’t believe me,” Suyin continued. “We’ve both said unkind words to each other and meant them, and you’re a far cry from forgiven, but—” she sighed again, and cloth rustled as she sat down.

“You were like family for a long time. That doesn’t change anything, but I’m not as heartless as you like to make me out to be. And you’ll be happy to hear that I’ve had a lot to think about over the past three-and-a-half years. I am more than willing to concede that you were right about certain things—”

Kuvira snorted.

Suyin ignored her and went on. “I think a lot about how things could have been different if I’d supported you and Baatar, or been more open to consider alternatives in handling the situation in the Earth Kingdom. And yet, I still find it hard to believe that it was _you_ of all people who brought my _fears to life_.” Her voice shook on those last three words, and Kuvira finally looked up.

The matriarch of Zaofu had a trembling hand pressed to her lips. Above them, her green eyes glimmered with unshed tears. Swallowing hard, Kuvira forced herself to meet the older woman’s gaze. She didn’t deserve the relief of looking away.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice a croak. She cleared her throat and began again. “I’m sorry. Not for leaving, not for doing what I had to do in Ba Sing Se, in Omashu, in Yi and Yu Dao and any of the other states. I will _never_ apologise for leaving you and Zaofu, for aiding my nation when you would not. But I am sorry…” She took a deep breath. Tugged on one of the cuffs hard enough that it bit into her skin. The pain helped focus her.

“I’m sorry for I’ve personally done to you. Betraying your trust. Perverting your ideals—I really did mean good with them, I did, I just…” Kuvira trailed off, unable to find the words to explain how everything had gone so wrong. Every day since her defeat, she’d gone through her plans and actions, trying to find that one decision she’d made, that one action she’d taken, where things had started going off the rails. Unlucky. Maybe her parents had been right. She tried to run her hands through her hair but the cuffs brought them up short. Suyin sat silently watching, her eyes now dry, a damp handkerchief clenched in a fist so tight her knuckles were white. She was probably fantasizing about having her hands wrapped around her neck, Kuvira thought. She almost welcomed it.

“And there’s nothing I’m sorrier for than trying to kill Baatar. I’ll live with that regret for the rest of my life—”

“You’re not sorry about trying to kill me?” Suyin cut in, her voice drier than the Si Wong desert.

“ _You_ tried to assassinate me first,” Kuvira protested. “You were an enemy combatant. And though you probably don’t believe me, I _am_ grateful you’re alive, incredibly grateful, but at that time it was a strategically sound decision—”

“Child,” Suyin interrupted again, and Kuvira started, both at the address and the sudden gentleness in her voice. “I see now where I’ve failed you. I let a young woman go off to war and somehow I still wondered why she’d changed so much. Stop thinking in strategies, stop thinking in tactics and maneuvers. I’m sorry I ever put you in a position where you had to shoulder all these on your own. This doesn’t absolve you of what you’ve done,” —Kuvira nodded along mutely to that— “but I promise I will do better to carry my own responsibility for this mess.”

Eyes stinging with the onset of tears, Kuvira had to look away again.

“Oh Kuvira,” said Suyin, and suddenly she was there again, a warm wall of green cloth against Kuvira’s check, pulling her in gently so that she could cry against her like she was eight again. “Where did we go wrong? You, me, Baatar and...Baatar.”

“So you’ve been talking?” Kuvira asked, trying to hold back her tears.

“So many times. Over and over. Lots of shouting.” Suyin sighed again. “I’m considering extraditing him to Republic City after your sentencing. After we’ve talked a little longer. I don’t think house arrest is doing him any good, and he might as well help clean up the mess he made with his ridiculous mecha.”

“He really did want to help,” Kuvira said softly. “He’d talk a lot about patents and the name he’d make for himself, but then he’d help fix the infrastructure of a town, or improve a refinery, or help plan and construct train lines in and out of villages. I never…”

“No,” agreed Suyin. “It was unfair and selfish of me to put all of that on you.” She gave Kuvira's shoulder a final squeeze then stepped away.

“Well, I think we’ve said what we had to say for now. I have no illusions that it’s over, but frankly I’m tired. I’ve been tired for over three years and I’m not getting any younger.”

“Thank you for visiting,” said Kuvira, surprised by the earnestness in her own voice. She hadn’t realised she’d needed so badly to talk to Suyin until now. A weight felt lifted from her shoulders. One of many, but she felt lighter nonetheless.

“It was time,” said Suyin. “Take care of yourself, Kuvira.”

“You too, Su.”

The older woman tapped on the door, and behind the heavy portal, the barricade was lifted. “By the way,” she added, “I’ve put some money into your commissary account, and brought you a basket of fruit...I know you don’t get a lot of that here. I also made sure you actually _do_ get them. Happy New Year, by the way.” Looking at Kuvira’s surprised face, she chuckled softly. “You think I don’t know how this works here? I’ve been in prison before too.”

The door fell shut with a heavy thud after that surprising parting line, but it felt less final than anything had in months.

 

**7**

The last time she’d stepped foot into a hotel, Kuvira realised, had been over a decade ago in the _Four Elements_ , during her coup. _The Jade_ wasn’t as grand, but this time she wasn’t visiting as a head of state. In fact she only caught a brief glimpse of the luxurious lobby, decked out in new year’s decorations, as she was hustled down a staff corridor and into a plain elevator.

“Remember the rules,” said Jubin, reaching for her cuffs. Kuvira fought back a whole-body flinch. Blood was rushing in her ears, and she’d been busy watching the numbers climb, all the way up to the penthouse.

“You run, you get another five years,” added Mo Hang.

“I’m not going to run,” Kuvira snapped at her guards. Bad enough that she was feeling sick with anxiety, she’d had to put up with their jeering throughout their entire trip too. “I’m not planning to see the two of you any longer than I have to.”

“We’ll be glad to see the last of you too, grump,” said Jubin, unlocking her cuffs. Kuvira rubbed her wrists with relief. They hadn’t been allowed to uncuff her for the duration of the trip, and it felt good to have the weight of platinum lift from her wrists.

The lift dinged as it arrived at their floor, but Mo Hang reached out and pressed a button on the panel. A judder ran through the compartment as the lift stalled.

“Relax,” said Mo Hang, holding up empty hands. Without realising it, Kuvira’s shoulders had tensed up around her ears, and her hands were curled into fists. “I’m just going to turn that on.” She nodded at the thick cuff wrapped around Kuvira’s ankle. They’d put that on her in the morning, but it wasn’t supposed to be activated until her arrival.

Kuvira nodded, and Mo Hang knelt down, bending over the tracking cuff. A minute later it beeped, and a little green light came on, right next to the _Varrick Industries_ logo.

“Don’t forget,” Jubin said as the doors finally opened and they led her out. “The limit’s half a li. You’ll feel a buzz when you reach the edge, and you’ll get a shock if you cross it.”

“We’ll be on the floor below,” Mo Hang chimed in. “And the hotel staff know to look out for you.” She put her hand on her shoulder and Kuvira tried not to jerk away, but all she did was pat it lightly. “Don’t mess this up.”

“I won’t,” she said quietly. All her life, she’d never had as much to lose as she did now.

Jubin raised his hand to knock, but the door opened before he could. It was Suyin. Hair now more white than grey, lines that had once been fine now carved deeper into the corners of her eyes and mouth, but she was still the Suyin Kuvira remembered.

Her green eyes narrowed as she took them all in, then they fixed on Mo Hang, who was marked as the superior by her lieutenant stripes. “You were supposed to be here two hours ago.”

Mo Hang was the rare individual who did not wither under Suyin’s glare. On Kuvira’s other side, Jubin wasn’t so lucky, and decided her body would be a good shield from the matriarch’s wrath. So much for the warden’s best.

“Our vehicle broke down halfway, ma’am,” Mo Hang explained. “We radioed ahead, you were supposed to have been informed.”

“I was informed,” said Suyin. “But I’m appalled that your party was not better prepared.”

Mo Hang took a deep breath, readying herself for a rebuttal. Unwilling to spend the entire three days of her furlough arguing in the doorway, Kuvira quickly cut her off. “It’s fine Su. We’re here now.”

The look that crossed Suyin’s face made it clear that she did not think it at all fine, but she let the matter drop. Instead she stretched her hand out imperiously, until Jubin remembered to stop cowering and fumbled a thick envelope from his bag.

“This is everything, yes?” she asked, opening it and thumbing through the papers.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Mo Hang, a touch of impatience in her voice. “All the documents you requested, as well as a list of restrictions for the prisoner.”

Kuvira rolled her eyes.

“Well, we won’t be needing that,” said Suyin haughtily, but she stuffed the papers back into the envelope and tucked them under her arm.

“One more thing,” Mo Hang said, just as Suyin’s hand landed on Kuvira’s shoulder. “We need you to sign this.”

Without removing her hand, Suyin bent the offered pen and scrawled down her elegant signature. A jerk of her head made one of the plates of her necklace compress into a metal block, with which she pressed the seal of the Metal Clan into the paper. Then her hand tightened on Kuvira’s shoulder and she pulled her into the room, closing the door in the guards’ astonished faces.

“Show off,” Kuvira muttered.

“Just being efficient,” said Suyin, then pulled the younger woman into a hug. It took several moments before Kuvira could relax into it, but she finally did, putting her arms around her former mentor.

“It’s good to see you again,” Suyin said when she finally pulled away, brushing a stray lock of hair from Kuvira’ face. “We were beginning to get worried. Are you all right? Be honest with me.”

“I’m fine,” Kuvira assured her. “We really did have a problem, but it was a flat tire. It took a while because everybody kept passing the job around.”

“Unprofessional,” Suyin grumbled, but she let it go. “You look dead on your feet. Have you eaten? Or would you like a shower first? I could draw a bath.”

“Food and then a bath would be lovely,” said Kuvira, trying not to let the sudden rush of options overwhelm her. “But first—”

“Of course,” said Suyin, her lips curling into a smile. “Through that doorway, the room at the very end.” Then she walked away, leaving Kuvira alone.

Unexpectedly, she found herself rooted to the spot. Suyin’s sudden absence almost left her floundering. After years under constant watch and supervision, to be left alone like this...the trust was overwhelming. Or maybe it wasn’t even something Suyin had thought about. Who did, after all? Normal people didn’t have to worry about these things.

Kuvira forced herself to move. Seventy-two hours, and she couldn’t waste them all on her petty anxieties. She was lucky enough to have been allowed this brief respite from her reconstruction work.

Then she was there, in front of the door. His door. After a moment’s hesitation, she knocked softly, then again when there was no answer. A third knock still returned no response, so she quietly opened it. It was dark in the room, but the light from the corridor cast a thin beam over a sleeping figure on the bed. Blankets lay tangled at its feet, and she could make out familiar silvery scars on the bare shoulder. She let out a shuddery breath, and somehow that was what woke him.

“Kuvira?”

She slipped in, closing the door behind her and leaving them in the dark. She could see his familiar shape sit up and grope around for his glasses.

“I know it’s you, Kuvira,” Baatar said, though there was an uneasy edge to his voice. “Turn on the damn light.”

“No,” she said, and surged forward when she saw his hand close around a lightswitch. “Please, not yet.”

“I want to see you.”

“Just a few minutes,” she begged, slipping out of her dusty, travel worn clothes. She was grimy, she smelled; she should have showered first. She was going to mess up all the sheets, mess up Baatar. But it was too late to change her mind, because he was already there, sliding his warm, calloused hands up her sides and pulling her down with him.

“Spirits,” he murmured, and she buried herself under him. The sheet were warm from his body and smelled like him, and he was everywhere, over and around her too.

“I missed you so much,” she breathed. Tears streamed silently from her eyes, but it was dark and he wasn’t wearing his glasses. He couldn’t see.

“Kuvira.” Her name fell from his lips like a prayer. He nuzzled her neck and his hands were everywhere; running through her hair, gliding over her stomach, her breasts, smoothing over her arms, lacing his fingers through hers. She buried her face in his shoulder, wound her legs between his and focused on every gentle touch, every puff of breath against her skin.

She thought she’d finished crying, but when his hands cupped her face, thumbing away the salt-grit from her checks, she found her eyes spilling over again. “It’s all right,” he kept saying, pressing gentle kisses to her face. “It’s all right.”

“You’re an idiot,” she mumbled, and punched him in the shoulder, but she believed him anyway.

 

**8**

“You’re putting it up the wrong way, it’s supposed to be upside down.”

Too late. The piece of red paper was already stuck to the door, and if she ripped it off now, she’d have to paint a new one. But there was another way.

“Kuvira, no!”

With a horrible screech, an entire square section of the door, abundance sign and all, turned a full hundred-and-eighty degrees.

“Spirits,” Baatar muttered, throwing his armful of willow branches to the floor. “This is why I didn’t want a metal door. The way you keep bending it around, we’re going to need a new one before the year is over.”

Kuvira gave the sign a pat. “Well, if it does what it’s supposed to do, we wouldn’t have to worry about buying a new door.”

Her fiancé rolled his eyes, but he’d already been rolling his eyes at her all day. If he rolled them any harder, he’d be picking them up from the floor. He vanished into the kitchen, only to emerge again with a tall vase which he haphazardly began filling with the willow branches.

After smoothing down the sign one last time, Kuvira turned her attention to the rest of the room. Plumping the decorative pillows, straightening the decorations, making sure the lacquer serving platter was filled with snacks.

“Oh for spirit’s sake,” Baatar exclaimed from the floor when he found his arrangement plucked from his hands and completely redone. “Have I forgotten something? Is the Fire Lord coming to dinner?”

“Your mother will be here in an hour!”

“And you’re worried about that?” he boggled. “You’ve known my mother for years! You even—” he gesticulated wildly, unable to come up with the right words to describe Kuvira’s relationship with Suyin. After all, they’d gone through many different phases, only to find themselves back as in-laws and friends, under much better circumstances than the last.

“I know,” groaned Kuvira, trying to make a small paper lantern dangle just right from one of the branches. “But just all this—” she gestured at their apartment. It was a fairly new building in Guwei, which itself was a small, relatively new city in the southeastern-most province of the Democratic Earth Republic. They’d only moved in a month ago, and had just finished unpacking the day before, urged on by a bout of new year’s spring cleaning. Suyin hadn’t seen the place yet. And after so many years, torn apart by ambition and selfish decisions, and then house arrest and a ten year prison sentence, Kuvira finally felt like they were getting back on track. It would be nice if their new home could reflect that too.

“Hey, love,” said Baatar, warm hands closing round her own. They were shaking, she realised, and she’d accidentally shredded the tiny paper lantern. Scraps of red paper drifted from her fingers. “We’ll be alright.”

Kuvira buried her face in his shoulder and inhaled deeply. His warm, familiar smell calmed her, as did the circles he rubbed into her back. “Do you want to lie down for a moment?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. I’m just...nervous.”

His chest rumbled under her cheek as he chuckled. “I know. I am too. It’s kind of crazy. Despite everything, I never thought _I’d_ be the one to actually leave Zaofu.”

She hummed in agreement.

“By the way…” said Baatar, “it’s your year again, monkey. Your fourth cycle’s beginning.”

Yes, Kuvira thought, pulling him down so she could press their lips together. After all these years, they could begin again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a bunch of cheesy, cute new year's one-shots, then ANGST! TRAGIC BACKSTORY! DOOMED LOVE!
> 
> Anyway, enjoy. Gong Xi Fa Cai, may this year bring you prosperity and abundance and joy (and HONOR!).
> 
> \----
> 
> This is [yee sang](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yusheng). Because Zaofu is essentially Singapore.
> 
> Based on this timeline [here](https://avatar.fandom.com/wiki/History_of_the_World_of_Avatar#Timeline), I guessed Kuvira would probably be born in the Year of the Monkey. It doesn't quite fit her element, Monkey being fire, but it made me think of the Monkey King's own punishment and redemption arc, and that fit, especially in this fic. Baatar's either a horse or a sheep.


End file.
